The Heart Wants
by SunnyOrange
Summary: Theo wants Hermione, despite her being married to his friend Draco. And though he knows this may end with only heartache, sometimes the heart wants what it wants.


" **The Heart Wants** "

Note: This was my submission for the Dramionelove fest 2016. I'm finally getting around to posting it here. Hope everyone enjoys.

Disclaimer: Harry Potter is the property of J.K. Rowling and Warner Bros. This work of fiction was created entirely for fun, not for profit, and no copyright infringement is intended.

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Hermione's mouth falls open, not comprehending what's been said to her. She blinks several times; perhaps this will help her understand what's been said to her. Nervously, her fingers pull at the mess atop her head, unconsciously tugging at the springy curls. Her cheeks flush in embarrassment and something more intimate, something she doesn't want to give a name to.

"I don't … I don't understand," Hermione mumbles finally.

The man sitting across from her (watching her every move avidly) is overcome with how beautiful he finds her. Hermione's beauty is more than skin deep; it lies close in her heart, shining through her soul and manifesting through her every actions.

Theodore Nott has come to learn and see this about Hermione after working closely with her in the Ministry. It's a knowledge he's come to cherish; a knowledge he's fallen in love with. For he has … fallen helplessly in love with her.

He's pathetic, he knows, but the heart wants what it wants. To him, the heart is a most selfish organ.

"I'm in love with you, Hermione," Theo says selfishly, quietly, hopelessly. His face is pinched in agony. Her reaction, _her silence_ to his confession is all the answer he needs.

She looks at him in pity, feeling guilty for not returning his feelings.

Hermione goes to speak, but stops as Theo stands up and approaches her. Slowly, he kneels before her seated position on the settee. She leans back as if trying to escape, but he grabs her hand, holding it between his own. His eyes are overly bright, his cheeks red, his dark hair sweeping over his creased forehead. She thinks he's handsome. One would be blind not to think so.

Swallowing thickly, Hermione goes to speak, but he hushes her with a finger to her slightly parted lips.

"You made it all too easy, Hermione," Theo whispers, "falling for you after all these years." She goes to argue, but he gives her a sad, wobbly smile. "You did nothing wrong, honey. It's all on me. You're simply exquisite. Everything about you. But most of all, your forgiveness and that big beating heart of yours. Hardly anyone overlooked my past or gave me a chance at redemption, but you did. Over and over again, honey." Tears cloud her eyes. "You're above us all, Hermione." Bringing the back of her hand to his lips, he gives it the most reverent kiss.

Her cheeks flush horridly at the compliment, at his lips touching skin; her heart pounds restlessly in her chest, but she does her best to ignore it. Only her husband has given her such praise, such unbridled love.

"Would you ever have considered me? As something more than a co-worker, a friend, something infinitely closer?" He looks vulnerable asking, but still needs to know the answer.

Like a dear in headlights she cannot move. A treacherous 'yes, once upon a time' rises in her chest, and for that she feels terrible. She loves her husband wholly. But there is a _very_ small part of her that had considered Theodore Nott over the years. He was that kind of amazing Wizard. They worked together so well – their partnership praised by their bosses.

But his confessions are something else altogether. It makes her feel sick and pitiful to the depths of her soul. He's going to hurt, she knows, yet there's no way around it. Desolately she says, "I'm sorry, Theo, I just can't. I _love_ my husband."

His head bows as he loosens his grip on her hand.

"I had to try. I'd always wonder, otherwise; and it was worth a life-debt to me."

Shock runs through Hermione; he's wasted an invaluable life-debt on that? On her rejection … A life-debt Draco owed him.

Looking into her eyes, he must see her quandary; he knows her well. "You are worth the life-debt, honey. Never doubt that. Though Draco is your husband, he's been my friend for years. This was the only way I could think to approach you without his flat-out denying me the chance. Or completely ruining our friendship. He owed me the debt and I took it."

"But why, Theo?"

"The heart wants what it wants, Hermione." And with those words, he bends forward, lifts her chin with his finger and gently kisses her lips. It lasts but a few seconds yet shakes them both deeply.

For they both know this is goodbye. For a long while. She couldn't possibly work with him any longer, and he needs time away, to allow his heart to break and eventually repair, and to move on.

Tears drip from both of their eyes as he stands and steps away from her.

"Goodbye, Hermione Malfoy."

Working past the great lump in her throat, she mumbles, "Bye, Theo."

"In the next life, yeah?"

"Yeah."

And he's gone.

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Looking up into the eyes of her husband – her true heart – she knows he was her best decision. They may not always get along, their fights may be something terrible, but she loves him. Sometimes she can't define the feelings she has for him, they are so intense.

It's the little things which make her love him most: his absentminded foot-rubs, the sweet notes he owls her throughout the day, his holding her hand when lounging on the sofa, staring at her as if he'd be lost without her.

And as he moves inside her, connecting their souls in that most intimate of ways, her hands tangle in his hair.

"I'd always pick you, love," she utters.

He gives her the most heart-melting smile, stilling his thrusting hips.

"And I you, baby."

Draco Malfoy starts to move again, needing to be so fucking deep inside his wife. She's his world, and he needs to reaffirm it, needs for her to know it.

He links their fingers together, placing them above her head, continuing to thrust deeply. She arches up into him, moaning so beautifully as she finds her completion.

"Love you," she intones, falling so exquisitely from her high. "Love you, baby."

And to Draco, it doesn't matter what happened earlier … _not really_. Because from the moment they reconnected years ago (him spilling his sincerest apologies to her), Hermione's been his, and he's been hers.

No one could come between them. Not Theo wanting Draco's wife, or Theo's love for Hermione. Not even a life-debt Draco owed him.

Finally finding his own release in his wife, his heart, his everything, Draco stammers, "Love you … more than myself!"

With him still deeply inside her, they are complete.

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 **Footnote** : Hope you liked my little story. It was fun to write and something different I wanted to explore based off one of the prompts from the fest. Feel free to leave any comments and thanks for stopping by. :)


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